How The Mighty Fall
by Jeeney
Summary: Harry finds himself at war with Voldemort. Can he and Draco save what is left of a man gone wrong?


**A/N: **This chapter isn't very long. This is a ff I've been working on for a while, in the middle. But now I've figured out how to start it. 

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but what I buy. I don't have enough money to buy this. 

**Warnings:** None in this chapter.

**Dedication: **This story is for Kiwii who has given me a lot to think about. And a lot of ideas. And yeah. ::smiles::

Harry Potter was on a mission. It showed in his purposeful strides as he headed down corridor after corridor losing himself further in the maze that was the Ministry of Magic. He turned down yet another hall and pulled open the first door on his right marked "Muggle Affairs". Inside, he found a young witch, probably fresh from Hogwarts who he assumed to be the secretary. "Is Mr. Weasley in?" he asked as soon as she had acknowledged him. 

"Yes," she said. Harry started around her desk to the far door but she headed him off. "but he's not seeing anyone today."

"He'll see me."

"He told me not to let anyone in."

"He will see me."

"Sir, I can't-"

"You can, and you will."

"Sir, I told you, he's not seeing anyone."

"He'll see me if I have to break down his door."

"Sir?"

"I will. I _will _see him. His eyes bore into hers.

"I- I'll asked him," she stammered. Hesitantly she called into his office. "Sir?" she glanced up at Harry.

"What?" snapped a voice back after an oddly prolonged amount of time consisting of mostly scuffles and crackling papers.

"There's someone here to see you."

"I told you I'm not seeing anyone."

"He won't leave. He insists on seeing you."

"Well I'm busy." Harry grinned, recognizing his old friend's stubbornness. 

"Tell him it's a friend."

"Sir, I'm supposed to tell you it's an old friend."

"Let me see that." The secretary reluctantly handed Harry the intercom. "Mr. Weasley," he began, "do you suppose you could spare a couple minutes for an old chum?" Harry heard a gasp and the door behind the desk burst open.

"Harry?!" cried the man framed in the doorway. 

"No, you twit. Draco Malfoy."

"Idiot. How are you?"

"Could be better." The man crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. Harry was motioning to the office with his eyes. 

"That's too bad," he answered, oblivious to Harry's signals.

"And you?" Harry tried harder to get him to notice, aware that the secretary was listening. 

"Never better."

"I see."

"Yes- oh!" he cried, having finally caught Harry's drift. The secretary looked up from her desk. Harry smiled at her and handed her back the intercom. "Won't you come in?" Harry followed him into the office, shutting the door behind himself. 

"So how have you really been?"

"Horrible. This job is running me ragged."

"So quit."

"I can't."

"Why not?" He gave Harry a hopeless look.

"You can't just up and quit your job for no reason. Besides, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I've gotten so that I _have to be busy or I go mad!"_

"Pity." Harry leaned in. "Listen, what are you doing tonight?"

"Tonight?" he chewed on his bottom lip. "Nothing, why?"

"Come to this address at seven o'clock," Harry instructed, sliding a piece of parchment across the desk to him.

"Why?"

"Just come."

"Fine."

"Don't forget."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Harry!" he cried.

"Ron!" Harry mimicked.

"Har har."

"I've got to go. Bring as many brothers as you can."

"Okay."

"Don't forget." Harry warned.

"Harry!" They stood and shook hands. 

"I'll see you later," Harry said as he opened the door."

"Later," echoed Ron and he closed the door. Harry smiled down at the secretary, who smiled back. He shut the door and was gone. The secretary reached over to the intercom and flicked it off. Reaching up and rubbing one of her black pearl earrings, she spoke. "It has begun," she mumbled. There was a small crackle.

"Good," came a voice from the earring. 

*                      *                      *

Harry had to make another stop before leaving the Ministry. He sped down the halls, ignoring the questioning looks he was receiving. His cloak swished as he suddenly came to a stop before an unmarked door. He turned and slowly grabbed the knob, the metal cold in his clammy hands. He inhaled deeply and started as the knob turned in his hand. It swung inwards and a man stepped out. He was wearing a pair of faded blue coveralls covered by dirty janitor's robes. In his right hand he held a mop, his left occupied by the bucket.

"Hey," said Harry, pretending not to notice the uniform. The man, startled, looked up into Harry's face and smiled.

"Hey," he croaked back, his eyes brightening as if a wand had been lit. 

"Looks like you're having fun," noted Harry, leaning nonchalantly against the wall.

"Loads." Harry chuckled. 

"How have you been?"

"All right, I guess." Harry glanced left, then right. The coast was clear. He leaned in and handed him a slip of paper. 

"Be there at seven o'clock," he whispered.

"Right."

"See you Remus!" he called, after leaning back out. He headed back to the front doors.

"See you." 

Having got the paper open, he scanned it over then jogged to the front desk.

"I need to use the phone," he told the receptionist.

"Phone?"

"Whoops." Remus had forgotten that only Muggles used phones. "I'll be back in ten minutes. The receptionist nodded, not sure what he meant and Remus disapparated.


End file.
